


Collateral Damage

by vassilissa



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Cheating, F/M, M/M, Post-First War with Voldemort, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-06-04 01:13:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6634990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vassilissa/pseuds/vassilissa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I’m running, and it feels more like running <i>into</i> than running <i>away</i> and that is always the hardest part for me, it feels like.</p><p>‘You’re going to be okay,’ I remember you saying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Collateral Damage

It is a joke, when—

 

It is a _joke_ , when James says he wants Sirius to be his best man.

 

It is a _joke_ , because they’ve reached a new fucking point of lying to themselves.

 

And Sirius fucking _hates_ lies. So, Sirius drinks. Says, “Yes, _sure_ , what the _fuck_ , right?” and then laughs a lot about his life. Has the absolute best fucking time with the _lads_.

 

Then goes home and cries. Smashes a lot of things. Drinks some more. Breaks his hand. Then goes the fuck to sleep.

* * *

 

Marlene’s in the wedding. She has that gap between her teeth, the long, skinny, milky legs with the bruised knees, the same washed out blonde hair, only longer now, hanging from her head like ropes—she’s wearing a short dress. It’s blue. It makes her look out of place.

 

He goes to her.

 

Long, see-through eyelashes, a reminder that she could never _be_ , and chocolaty brown eyes. Hasn’t lost the pale freckles on her nose and cheeks.

 

Sends the same shock down his spine as the first time he ever saw her.

 

She’s incredibly sad.

 

“Lily begged me to come,” she explains to him in that quiet, sort of airy voice of hers—a reminder that he has to be close to listen to her, and he is.

 

“Said it’s _most important_ that I come.” There’s a barely there smile on her plump lips, and it’s sad. Everything looks _sad_ on her.

 

He wants to ask why. Why did she leave. Why she is so fucking sad. Why did she _leave_.

 

“You look good, Sirius, you really do. It’s been so long…” her words trail off.

 

She’s tightly holding her champagne glass. Never sips from it. He notices all this.

 

“It has,” he replies. “It has,” he repeats, more to himself than to her.

 

He’s finishing his fourth glass of the same drink. He thinks he has to move on to something a little more hard, like whiskey. Or bleach. He doesn’t dare look at James.

 

His fingers where he held the rings burn.

 

“Wanna get out of here?”  


* * *

 

“Sometimes I still feel like I’m on that field,” she says, sitting next to him on the pavement, forearms resting on her knees, eyes looking elsewhere.

 

He wishes he could see the place she’s formed in her mind. He only sees black now. No stars.

 

“And I’m running, and it feels more like running _into_ than running _away_ and that is always the hardest part for me, it feels like.

 

“‘You’re going to be okay,’ I remember you saying, ‘You’re going to be okay,’ but my brother is dead and my parents are gone soon after him and I know I’m next and I’m tired of running so I stay still. And _nothing_ happens. And I’m left feeling like this is, somehow, not fair at all to my family. And I can’t do anything about it either way. ‘You’re okay,’ is all you say. Again and again…”

 

She’s looking at him now and he’s still lost, trying to find whatever she was looking at, but she was looking at exactly what he was looking at. Black. No stars.

 

It’s late.

 

“Marlene…” There are no words. She knows. She’s heard them all. They echo to nothing.

 

And she cries. She stands up, walks on her high heels, laughs, sits down again, shakes her head, _no more, no more_ , puts her hands over her mouth, really laughs, then stops crying altogether.

 

“Lily begged me to come, Sirius. I wouldn’t dare—I wouldn’t dare come back to this place. I wouldn’t _dare_.”

 

He grabs her face. Let’s his lips linger on her forehead.

 

“It’s okay.” ‘ _It’s not_ ’ “It’s okay.” ‘ _It’s **not**_ ’ “It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay...”

 

She doesn’t make any sound. Her hands are still covering her mouth. He takes them in his.

 

“We’re both going nowhere with that mindset, Marlene. Fucking believe me. It’s _okay_.”

 

Then he’s kissing her.

 

It is a fucking _joke_ —

* * *

 

They don’t work. Not really.

 

Days— _Weeks_ ago, he was in love with his best fucking friend, he was _gay_ , and now he’s not.

 

And he doesn’t know if that’s because it is _Marlene McKinnon_ or not and that’s exactly the reason why he’s so frustrated with himself.

 

He’s only twenty years old. He knows he doesn’t have _shit_ figured out. But he thought he was certain of that.

 

Until he wasn’t. Until _she_ came around, with her sad words and her warm mouth and her quiet fucking voice and now what is he supposed to _do_ , really.

* * *

 

They share an apartment. It’s going fast. They don’t care. They’ve nothing to hold on to. They barely have each other.

 

She never asks for anything.

 

She tells him she didn’t die, they didn’t kill her, but they took parts of her with them and half of her is rotting in Azkaban.

 

She tells him one of them raped her. He doesn’t have a face. He doesn’t have a voice. But she swears some nights she can still feel his hands on her skin.

 

Sirius fucks her until the only thing she can remember is that she’s alive. Till the only thing she hears is her blood running through her veins. Till she stops running away from herself.

 

She tells him and she tells him and she tells him.

* * *

 

James comes by the apartment.

 

Sirius never talks about it.

* * *

 

She gets thinner if that’s even possible and his mother wants to meet her.

 

Marlene knows Walburga. Walburga is impressed by the delicateness and the prettiness and all the thinness and really, that’s all his mother needs when she leaves ten minutes in, tea left cold in the teacup set Lily brought Marlene as a house gift.

 

Marlene leaves things as they are and goes to their bedroom. Sirius just smokes a lot. Sighs.

 

Loves her. Knows it’s not enough.

 

It’s been months now. They’re both tired. It’s _okay_.

* * *

But it gets worse. The fighting.

 

It’s because of the nightmares. James gets a wedding, the girl he loves and a _cake_ , and Sirius gets fucking _nightmares_ and a pat on the back as comfort.

 

As fucking _if_.

 

Marlene goes through the worst of it. She remembers the Second Years, the First Years; the _children_ — how confused they looked, how scared, how they cried when they realised that, yes, there was magic, that impossible thing existed, it was real and it was big and it was important and it was not enough to save them all.

 

When they realised that all they could do was hide and pray. Even with magic. Even with wands and strong spells and centuries of their own magical castle, their own personal _haven_.

 

Marlene recalls all of those children she wasn’t able to protect. All of those children that she once was; filled with awe and wide-eyed, thirsty for anything her professors could give her.

 

And so the fighting is about that. About how people die, about the unfairness, about how Sirius can’t do anything about it—

 

“Your friends got the _fuck_ over it and moved on and it is _that_ simple and it is _that_ easy and it is entirely not a thing I could just _do_ , Sirius! _Okay_?

 

The war still lingers, the war _never_ goes away for me, the war _just_ happened, and I can’t just attend a wedding and congratulate a friend and _get the fuck over it_ , because things happen and you can’t do anything about it. Tell James to _fuck off_. When did _he_ take into account _any_ of the things you felt and needed to say? When will you _tell_ him?

 

I want to see my parents again, Sirius, but I _can’t_ , okay? I can only see them through closed eyelids and _blood_. I can only see them mouthing _mercy_ over and over again under the shouts of _crucio_! I can only hear _blood traitors, blood traitors, blood traitors_ , because we did the _right thing_. I looked at your mother and saw **_murder_** , because she _believes_ in those things, and she hasn’t been punished, she doesn’t even _think_ what she believes is _wrong_ , she just does and does and there are _no consequences_ , because she is from the _Noble and Most Ancient House of Black_ , and what _am_ I? I’m just _Sirius Black’s girlfriend_ , since no one remembers me or what I _lost_ in that war.

 

You think you have it bad, but I told you. I _told_ you you don’t want to get involved with me, because I’m a mess, I’m fucked up, there are _too many bad dreams_ —”

 

And then she’s crying and then Sirius punches the wooden door of their bedroom, cursing out because he broke his hand for the second time, and then he’s kissing her, bruised knuckles lost in her hair, and he can taste her tears and they taste of _truth_ and _pain_ and if he could take any of it he would, he _would_ …

 

Because she’s _right_.

* * *

 

The second time James comes around it isn’t planned and Marlene has just gone out, she’ll be back in a few minutes, and no matter how fast they try to be, it’s not enough—Sirius isn’t even _in_ it, he just feels bitter and James knows this will be the last time.

 

It’s just waiting to happen, when the door opens and things clutter on the floor, not a human sound echoing through the half empty apartment.

 

“I think I need to leave,” is all she says, before disappearing inside their bedroom.

 

It feels wrong and it feels stupid and James looks at Sirius a certain way, sees his face, knows what they did was not worth it, sees his face transform into something else completely, panic or pain or regret or fuck if he knows, he’s never felt it and he doesn’t apologise. Just grabs his jacket and gets the fuck out of his best friend’s life, before he can make things worse.

 

Sirius jumps over the couch to stop her, bursting through the door feral, and sees her staring herself in the mirror, clothes already packed. He doesn’t make a move. Only stares at her through that mirror. Only stares.

 

“Did you tell him?” she finally breaks the silence.

 

Sirius can only shake his head. “Tell him what?” he asks softly.

 

She ignores his gaze. “Why would you _do_ something like that to me?” her voice cracks.

 

“Because I’m fucked up, Marlene. I didn’t even know what I want—not until you came back. And maybe still, even now. Whatever that was—I swear to you it’ll never happen again. I never wanted you to get hurt—”

 

But she’s already shaking her head in refusal, tears taking down her eyeliner with them as they trickle down her cheeks.

 

“ _Liar_ ,” she huffs out with an acid laugh. “ ** _Liar_**.”

 

He looks hurt, and it’s patronising to Marlene how he could stand there and look lost and _mean_ it.

 

“You knew exactly what you were doing. I’m not going to ease your guilt. It’s not _my_ fucking fault you have issues with your _sexuality_ —”

 

“Why the fuck are you throwing that in my face? How many times have I stayed with you during _your_ issues, Mar? What the **_fuck_** —”

 

“Yes, but it’s not the same, is it?” she says, and he stops breathing. “See, I didn’t cheat on you with your best friend’s _husband_ , did I?” she jerked her head around, to look him in the eye. “ ** _Did I_**?”

 

And then she’s _crying_.

 

“Marlene, don’t go. Don’t _leave_.”

 

“What am I going to _do_ , _Sirius_ , what can I **_do_** —”

 

He can’t stay a minute longer.

* * *

 

When he goes home, she’s asleep on their bed, clothes and all.

 

He sighs. The skin around her eyes is raw; cheeks puffy.

 

In all the times he’s fucked up in his life, this must be the worst one yet. She had given him no reason whatsoever to do such a thing to her. _None_. And yet there he went, screwing up the one good person he had.

 

It’s collateral damage, really, he thinks. He pulls the sheets over her thin frame. She stirs. He chokes on his breath.

 

“I don’t want to leave,” she whispers, voice hoarse and breaking. He flinches, suddenly furious with himself. _He_ did this to her. _Him_. He’s such a piece of shit.

 

“Is that bad? That I don’t want to leave you? Should I forgive you? Maybe it was my fault; maybe I was too difficult…”

 

“No!” he barks, kneeling down next to her. He touches her cheek, grey eyes blazing with guilt. “ _No_. You were _perfect_. Hell, you _are_ perfect. I just have this thing in my brain that says _fuck it all up Sirius_ whenever a good thing comes by. I used to watch good things pass me by and I used to wave at them. I don’t want to do that anymore, Marlene. You need to _help_ me, I don’t—”

 

“Shhh…” she nods. She grabs his palm and kisses it. It all burns. It all feels wrong.

 

He loves her to death. He’s learned so much from her.

* * *

 

Marrying her would be the best decision he ever made.

**Author's Note:**

> i love this pairing so much


End file.
